"Love is God"?

Our readings last week for the 'Aquinas on Virtue' postgraduate seminar covered, in addition to the cardinal virtue of justice, the theological virtue of charity.  Charity, or 'love,' for Aquinas, is a very precise notion and one that is repeated by our contemporaries in a very imprecise way.  One such example, which I'd like to explore, is the Lutheran worship jingle God is Love, Love is God, sometimes heard in Catholic circles.

Here we'll sidestep the obvious English grammatical error that is switching the subject ("God") and the predicate ("love") and focus, instead, on how 'love' is understood by Aquinas, and to situate it within the famous Biblical passage "God is love" (1 Jn  4:8).

In the Thomistic framework, "love" is understood in four ways, which already renders the phrase "Love is God" ambiguous.

First, within the concupiscible appetite in the soul's sensitive power, there is the passion of love in S.th., 1a 2ae, q. 26, art. 2, sed contra, where it is described as an appetency for good.  This passion of love is threefold:  love for self, which aids in self-preservation; in sentient creatures, love is an appetite for sensory things which are desirable; among humans, there is also an appetite for what the intellect perceives as good.  In the last case, the passion is extended to the will, and it is here where Aquinas locates what has been the classical definition of love:  To will the good of another (S.th., 1a 2ae, q. 26, art. 4, respondeo).

The passion of love is part of that framework of romatic love.  More on that in a bit.

Second, there is the  theological virtue of charity which is defined, strictly, as a created supernatural habit in the soul's rational appetite (or the 'will') by which the Christian befriends God.  Aquinas explains--

Accordingly, since there is a communication between man and God, inasmuch as He communicates His happiness to us, some kind of friendship must needs be based on this same communication, of which it is written (1 Cor. 1:9): "God is faithful: by Whom you are called unto the fellowship of His Son." The love which is based on this communication, is charity: wherefore it is evident that charity is the friendship of man for God (S.th., 2a 2ae, q. 23, art. 1).

Note that the passion of love is natural and that the virtue of love is supernatural.  What we often miss in English is that Aquinas assigns amor, amoris to the 'passion' of love but caritas, caritatis for the 'theological virtue' of love.  Both are created; the former is naturally-occuring and the latter is supernaturally-occuring.  It is for this reason that when reading 1 Corinthians 13 at wedding ceremonies, "love" must be understood in a precise way:  The passion of love is not spoken here, but the theological virtue thereof.  The legitimacy of reading this Pauline 'love chapter' is found in the ecclesial significance of Christian marriage and the sense of romantic love between Christian nuptials being 'elevated' to agape as per Benedict XVI's encyclical Deus caritas est (cf. n. 10).

Third, there is the hypostasis or the person of the Holy Spirit who is rightly named "Love" and "Gift."  In S.th., q. 37, art. 1, respondeo, Aquinas explains--

The name Love in God can be taken essentially and personally. If taken personally it is the proper name of the Holy Ghost; as Word is the proper name of the Son.

To see this we must know that since as shown above (Question [27], Articles [2],3,4,5), there are two processions in God, one by way of the intellect, which is the procession of the Word, and another by way of the will, which is the procession of Love.

Here, Aquinas appropriates St Augustine's 'verisimilitude' of the Trinity as Lover--Beloved--Loving, the Holy Spirit being the "loving" between the Father and the Son and the will within the Godhead, just as the Son is the intellect.

Fourth and finally, we have "love" under the rubric of 1 John 4:8, which Aquinas discusses at length in S.th., 1a, q. 20, art. 1.  The real problem, however, is whether "love" can be the essence of the Godhead; Aquinas, being in the tradition of Pseudo-Denys, uncompromisingly teaches the ineffability and unknowability of God's quiddity with absolutely one exception:  God's essence is his existence.  Since will is necessarily predicated of God, it inded follows that Deus caritas est, but by no means in the sense that love is the "stuff" or the res of Divine substance.

At the same time, "love" that is predicated of God is neither a passion (as in #1 above) because passions do not exist in God:  "He loves without passion" (S.th., 1a, q. 20, art. 1, ad 1; cf S.c.G., bk. I, ch. 89), since the passions are inherent in the human soul.  Nor is this "love" within God a theological virtue, because its particular modality is proper, again to the human soul which, again God does not have.  Nor can we reduce the triune Godhead to the Person of the Holy Spirit, since the Holy Spirit as "love" and "God" as love differ as the immanent to the economic, respectively:  God always loved the Son, and that loving is the Holy Spirit; since God knows all things by knowing himself, he thus loves all things according to the modality of divine knowledge (cf. S.th., 1a, q. 14).  Thus, to treat "God" and "love" as a tautology on the basis of 1 John 4:8 would be to reduce the substance of God to his love for all things according to the mode of the Divine knowlege, in which case his "ordering" of love would be so different that there would no longer be a Trinity.

So, not only is the phraseology "Love is God" grammatically erroneous, it also mistakenly assumes that the copula est means we can tautologize "God" and "love" and overlooks that "love" is understood in several senses by Aquinas--to say nothing of the Greek "four loves."

Passions in Aquinas' Ethics: Emotivism, Cognitive Therapy, and Religious Fervour

Three things came to mind as I read S.th. 1a 2ae, qq. 59-60:  How they bear upon the philosophical faux-pas of emotivism, how they seem to add value to 'cognitive therapy,' and how they can explain the proper limits of "religious fervour."

When I read philosophy as an undergraduate, both in my introductory course and in beginning symbolic logic, our professor explained why "emotivism" is not a valid means of argumentation.  To say, for example, "Abortion!  Ugh!" does not constitute an argument at all.  Experience abounds in proving that "feeling" my way though high school multiple choice exams--especially in algebra--invariably earned me a D-minus.  It is for this reason that I will often interrupt someone who. whilst opining, begin by saying "I feel that..."  A number of public policies often gain traction thanks to how strongly-felt feelings are.  "Facts," someone rightly observed, "don't care about your feelings."

It is for this reason that Aristotle also called the 'sensitive soul' (or the 'sensitive part' of the soul) the "irrational part" in contrast to the intellecutal soul being the "rational part."  Aquinas demonstrates the irrationality of the unregulated passions by invoking St John of Damascus:  "Passion is a movement of the sensitive appetite when we imagine good or evil: in other words, passion is a movement of the irrational soul, when we think of good or evil" (1a 2ae, q. 22, art. 3, sed contra).  Aquinas explains further--

...passion is properly to be found where there is corporeal transmutation.  This corporeal transmutation is found in the act of the sensitive appetite, and is not only spiritual, as in the sensitive apprehension, but also natural.  Now there is no need for corporeal transmutation in the act of the intellectual appetite:  because this appetite is not exercised by means of a corporeal organ.  It is therefore evident that passion is more properly in the act of the sensitive appetite, than in that of the intellectual appetite; and this is again evident from the definitions of Damascene quoted above (respondeo).

Hence Horace's Ira furor breva est or, in contemporary idiom, "Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment."

But Aquinas explains that the passions are neither good nor bad (q. 59, art. 1, sed contra); the question, rather, is whether they are directed by the reason or not:  If they are, we have ordinate passions; if not, we have inordinate passions (art. 2, sed contra et respondeo).  Rather than to distrust the passions (as the Stoics did), Aquinas (following Aristotle and Augustine) sees value in them as they are able to be subjected to the reason in way analogous to how the body ought to be subject to the soul.  With temperance governing concupiscence and fortitude governing irascibility, these passions can then become powerful drives in one's increasing rectitude.

The reverse of this--the passions overriding the reason--is the raison d'etre of cognitive therapy practised by many licensed psychologists.  I have been privileged to see up close how such a method works in people suffering from depression:  The psychotherapist helps the patient to reason through certain emotions which are demonstrated to be irrational (such as the general sense of being disliked, feeling worthless, and so on).  One tool that such a psychotherapist may use would be to queue up all of the patient's positive qualities to give reason that life is worth living or he or she really is liked by his or her friends.

Cognitive therapy, it seems to me, is an (inadvertent) application of how Aquinas sees reason guiding the passions.  In fact, Aquinas hints at his later, fuller treatment of the virtue of prudence at 1a 2ae, q. 59, art., 1, respondeo and how it, in turn, governs all of the other cardinal virtues.  The difference between 'passions' and 'virtue,' says Aquinas, is that whereas the former is a "movement of the sensitive appetite," the latter is a "habit" which is a principle of right action.

What are we to make of, then, 'religious fervour'?  Ever since Ronald Knox's Enthusiasm, the Anglophone Church has tended to eschew excitement arising from piety.  One often hears this criticism about the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, especially from the perennially irascible Peter Kwasniewski.

Paul Murray OP has done well in explaining the role of joy in classical Dominicanism (The New Wine of Dominican Spirituality:  A Drink Called Happiness [New York:  Bloomsbury, 2006]) by a close reading of St Thomas Aquinas.  In fact, the expressions of religious fervour in St Dominic often stand in stark contrast with the seemingly passionless cerebralism of many of his contemporary children; Prof Dr Alan Schreck has suggested that contemporary stress on an 'unenthusiastic' religious praxis owes to Knox's influence (cf. "Enthusiasm Revisited," in Rebuild My Church [Cincinatti:  Servant Books, 2010], 141-180).

The key, I would suggest, is that an excited passion uninformed by reason (such as we see in the Appalachian variety of Pentecostalism) better serves Knox's critique, rather than a reason which excites the passions which ought to be the ideal of the ferviour we see among Catholic Charismatics.  But reasoning of what?  In a word, the Gospel which exceeds the desires which God has placed in the human heart.

It remains to be explored how Lk 10:21, "Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit" works within the framework of Christian anthropology.  My initial suggestion would be that since the passions of concupiscience and irascibility are rectified by the virtues of temperance and fortutide respectively, which in turn are perfected by the gifts of Fear of the Lord and Fortitude respectively, the Septenary does has a decisive role to play.  Since the gifts operate in a more unified way than do the virtues, the summit of the gifts--Wisdom--has much to do with authentic religious fervour, since it "considers the highest cause," which in tun inflames the other gifts with greater intensity, affecting also the passions.  It is clear, then, that with Wisdom, the passions are subordinated to reason, which is preoccupied with some Gospel truth as this gift is wont to do.

Mercy Versus Justice?

Like many--if not most--of Pope Francis' pastoral intiatives, the real thrust of what he was trying to accomplish seems to have been derailed by pastoral leaders on account of little or no formation in Thomistic theology:  I have in mind the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy (8 December 2015-8 December 2016).  As I often said to my confreres, many parishes and schools tended to treat it as the "Year of Excuses."

This basic confusion of "mercy" and "excuse," I am convinced, follows upon not properly relating mercy to justice--as if mercy somehow 'cancells' the obligation of justice (as if virtues were cancellable).

St James said it best:  "Mercy triumphs over justice"--superexaltat autem misericordia judicium (Jas 2:13).  At first glance, it may seem as though "mercy" somehow beats "justice" as in a contest.  But how does St Thomas Aquinas understand this Scripture?  The question is all the more pressing when we consider that 'justice' is a virtue which, by its very definition, is the very principle of a good act--how could 'cancelling' a principle of a good act be a good thing?

By way of a preface, St Thomas, following Aristotle and Ambrose, defines the virtue of justice as "a habit whereby a man renders to each one his due by a constant and perpetual will" (S.th., 2a 2ae, q. 58, art. 1, resp.).  As for mercy, the Angelic Doctor takes Augustine's definition, namely a "heartfelt sympathy for another's distress, impelling us to succor himif we can." (S.th., 2a 2ae, q. 30, art. 1, resp.).  What is significant is that while 'justice' is a cardinal virtue, 'mercy' is subordinated to the theological virtue of hope--so the relation of mercy to justice is that of a theological virtue to a cardinal one.

In S.th., 1a, q. 21, art. 3, obj. 2, St Thomas voices the (now-) common idea that "mercy is a relaxation of justice" (emphasis added).  He does rightly say that "God cannot remit waht appertains to his justice"--one may even read Anselm's Satisfaction Theory here.  In reply, St Thomas explains that "God acts mercifully, not indeed by going against His justice, but by doing something more than justice..." (emphasis added).  Our Friar Preacher then uses the example of a man owing another "one hundred pieces of money" but, instead, paying back two hundred.  "thus a man..does nothing against justice, but acts liberally or mercifully" (S.th., 1a. q. 21, art. 3, ad 2).

Using another example in the same response to the objection, St Thomas says that "The case is the same with one who pardons an offence committed against him, for in remitting it he may be said to bestow a gift."  He goes on to explain:  "Hence it is clear that mercy does not destroy justice, but in a sense is the fulness thereof."

Thus St Thomas Aquinas does not think that mercy 'overrides' justice but, rather, is its "fulness."  At first glance, this may be puzzling:  How is mercy a "fulness" of justice?  Simply:  By adding "goodness" to "that which is owed."  This is evident from the respondeo of the article:

Hence it follows that he endeavors to dispel the misery of this other, as if it were his; and this is the effect of mercy.  To sorrow, therefore, over th emisery of others belongs not to God; but it does most properly belong to Him to dispel that misery, whatever be the defec we call by that name [such as sin, or want].  Now defects are not removed, except by the perfection of some kind of goodness:  and the pimary source of goodness is God...  It must, however, be considered that to bestow perfections appertains not only to the divine goodness, but also to His justice, liberality, and mercy...  

In other words, if justice is to "give that which is owed to another," it is the nature of goodness to give abundantly more than which is "owed"--and this is the definition of mercy, and this is how mercy is "superexalted" over justice.  If only enthusiasts for Pope Francis would have taken the trouble to read precisely what His Holiness wrote--

Mercy is not opposed to justice but rather expresses God’s way of reaching out to the sinner, offering him a new chance to look at himself, convert, and believe.  ... This is why God goes beyond justice with his mercy and forgiveness. Yet this does not mean that justice should be devalued or rendered superfluous. On the contrary: anyone who makes a mistake must pay the price. However, this is just the beginning of conversion, not its end, because one begins to feel the tenderness and mercy of God. God does not deny justice. He rather envelopes it and surpasses it with an even greater event in which we experience love as the foundation of true justice (Misericordiae vultus, 21).

The point of the Year of Mercy, then, was not a wholesale "overlooking" on God's part of human faults; it was, rather, an invitation to rediscover how the gift of Jesus Christ was that very goodness of God exceeding the demands of justice laid upon us on account of our sins:  Not only the pardon of guilt, but also healing and the gift of new life.

That being said, to mistake "divine excusing" as "mercy" would be to to proffer a counterfeit to divine mercy and to profoundly misunderstand justice as virtue.

Penitentiaries and Plasticity

One year, whilst in the seminary, I was assigned to a maximum-security prison for my pastoral field education under the supervision of a superb laywoman who now serves in a senior post in my diocese.  It was there that I gained considerable--albeit limited--insight to prison culture and human nature.

It was something of an open secret that prison life amounted to little more than a back-and-forth power play between the inmates and the guards; in fact, it was difficult to see where "reform" played a role in the prison system, apart from 'extracurricular activities' such as chapel service, education, and group therapy.  Bishop Gary Gordon, during his time as Ordinary of Whitehorse, was the Canadian episcopal conference's voice on behalf of prisoners during Harper's tenure, and often spoke out about the effects of prison life in perpetuating criminal behaviour.  As such, the purpose of imprisonment could sometimes self-defeating.

'Sequestering' violent criminals, as well as 'reforming' them, seems to be the major purpose of imprisonment.  At the same time, prison life is made up of a bulk of rules; breaking them is met with further discipline and following them is occasionally met with a small reward.  The very existence of rules and expectations raises the possibility of "reform"--however small--and, to my mind, raises yet another possibility:  The role of 'formation in virtue' in prison life.

Here I mean only the cardinal virtues.  Given the universality of the cardinal virtues (founded, as they are, on natural law), it seems to me that the application of Aquinas' moral theory might have a special application in prison life beyond the mere following of rules for authority's and reward's sake.  If the hope is that, somehow, inmates improve their character,   In Aquinas' treatise on the habits (S.th., 2a 2ae, qq. 49-54), much discussion is given over to the 'malleability' of human character--or, as Maxime Allard OP calls it, 'plasticity.'  The very premise of prison rules is founded on the plasticity of human character; why not push the expectation further by providing a more authentic formation in character by applying Aquinas' virtue-ethic to the 'curriculum' of prison life?

Though 'secularism' is philosophically untenable, it still makes for a workable partnership with the Church given the natural law.  (Yes, there are secularists aplenty who reject the natural law theory, until someone inflicts misfortune upon them that is, nonetheless, not illegal.)  It seems to me that prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude are 'common denominator' sufficiently low enough to be admitted in a government space such as prisons.

More to the point, for all the talk of how a given inmate may have had an unfortunate set of circumstances which, in turn, gave rise to criminal behaviour, what is to say that a given inmate does not have a sufficient 'plasticity' to better himself by forming newer and better habits?  Again, if inmates are expected to follow rules, then at least they can also be encouraged to put an effort in growth in virtue.  In fact, to reduce inmates' personal reform to merely following prison rules serves less to reform inmates and more to play the Girardian cycle of mimetic violence.

Given Canadian secularism's aggressive pursuit of the 'lowest common denominator,' it is unlikely that we will see 'formation in virtue' part of the official programme of incarceration.  The Church however, in addition to the chapel services she holds in prisons, could offer yet another 'extracurricular' activity in applied virtue ethics following Aquinas' theory.  This, I think, might be a decisive contribution to the Church's engagement with secularity without compromising her essential commitment to the Gospel.

Thomistic "Virtue-Ethics"--A Sounder Pastoral Approach

When I began theology 10,000 years ago at an American seminary on the west coast, our course in moral theology consisted of Richard Gula's Reason Informed by Faith:  Foundations of Catholic Morality and another text by Richard McCormick (I forget the title).  A wonderful priest-professor taught the course which, in hindsight, struck me as a semester-long exercise in the art of excuplation.

Eventually, I moved to what would be my alma mater, the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology in Berkeley.  Well into my course of studies, it was decided that my previous credits in moral theology would not be transferred but, instead, I would take another one taught by Dr John Berkman (now at the University of Toronto).

It was there that I was introduced to St Thomas Aquinas' system of "the good life" and, especially, the 'calculus' of virtue-ethics.  Rather than the 'art of excuplation,' I discovered the 'art of tending towards God,' naturally by the cardinal virtues and supernaturally by the theological virtues.  That was in 2006 or thereabouts.

Nearly ten years later, I went to The Thomistic Institute's conference for priests, "Becoming a Better Confessor," where we were introduced to the skill of applying Thomas' teachings on the virtues and vices medicinally in effort to guide penitents and spiritual directees toward their Last End.  It was astonishing to see how subordinating vices could be traced back to a capital vice and how to identify a contrary virtue in view of aiding Christian souls to grow in grace.  Sensitive questions, especially pertaining to human relationships, were addressed with much care and precision, and in such a 'scientific' manner in such a way that we came away with a newfound ability to 'diagnose' moral and spiritual ailments and to medicinally apply the workings of virtue.

The description "pastoral," I think, is overused, and more often than not to mean simply 'sensitive' or 'assuaging.'  To shepherd is to lead a flock to healthy pastures and clean water in view of both health and contentment.  That being said, I've become convinced that the knowledge and application of St Thomas Aquinas' system of 'tending toward God' by way of a virtuous life buttressed by grace is in fact the most pastoral approach one can take in overseeing the Christian's struggle against sin.  More than that, Thomas' system isn't so much one of directly struggling against sin as it is tending towards our Last End and, on the way, the encumbrances of sin begin to be dislodged and progressively fall off.  In view of this, I cannot imagine how or why the 'art of exculpation' would at all be desirable.

This semester at Dominican University College, I'll be taking the course 'Aquinas on Virtue,' personally to hone my skill as a confessor and spiritual director, but professionally to 'polish my lens' as it were in order to see more clearly the humanity of Jesus, Jesus who possessed the fullness of the virtues (cf S.th., 3a, q. 7, art. 2) on account of His Anointing.  This will bring me 'full circle' to my pastoral praxis, namely, encouraging Christians to live in the fullness of the Holy Spirit, who enables us to live virtuously and, thereby, to be more conformed to Jesus Christ as the Exemplar of the virtuous life.

Reflection on My First Full Day in the Cloister

1. Christ is the pattern of the Christian life--His Beatific Vision during His lifetime means Christians are called to contemplatively gaze upon the Father "in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor 4:6).

2. "Ecce venio," "Behold I come" (Heb 10:7) means the Son's "towardness" to the Father (cf Jn 1:1, "et le Verbe était tourné vers Dieu" [TOB]) reached its maximal capacity in the Incarnation and, more intensely, in HIs priestly Self-offering.

3. Second Joyful Mystery of the Rosary--St John the Baptist leaped in the womb of St Elizabeth. Since the Precursor was of the Aaronic clan of Levi, might his leaping be the first instance of exercising the Ancient Testament priesthood--as they were wont to dance before the Ark--the Blessed Virgin being as she is the Ark of the New Testament?

4. The liturgy speaks of Mary's obedience to the (written) Word as the other side of the coin of God's will in her conceiving the Eternal Word. But we cannot overlook her Virginal, Immaculate Heart, whose purity rendered her obedience meeting God's will most fecund. Thus, the study of sacred theology--the Word being as it is its very soul--must be accompanied by an imitation of the Immaculate Heart (cf Mt 5:8).

Mourning for Ireland

On Friday, 25 May last, our local Grandin Media news outlet interviewed me regarding the most regrettable vote to repeal the Eighth Amendment to the Irish Constitution which, for entirely understandable reasons owing to the constraints of space, could not be published in its entirety.  Thanks to Mr Christopher Berthelot, it is reproduced below, with my replies in boldface.  They represent thoughts that are entirely my own.

What is your feeling about today’s vote?

I think--and I should hope--that today's vote ought to be a strong and unified chorus of the Gaelic peoples reaffirming the infinite worth and dignity of every human life, especially at its earliest stages.  While I am saddened by the prospect of unborn children being the collateral damage of socio-political ideologies, it is still an opportunity for historically Christian Ireland to reaffirm its faithfulness to the Gospel.

Is Ireland at a turning point when it comes to abortion?

I think it would be more accurate to say that the Irish Church is at a turning-point:  It will gauge the credibility of the Church on matters of human life and give a clear signal to the Church about what sort of mission field she stands before once this weekend passes.  The Church in Ireland--or anywhere, for that matter--can no longer depend on the momentum of whatever clout she held in the past.  If the Church cannot speak the word of God "with boldness" (Acts 4:31) then we must engage in an examination of conscience:  Have we relied more upon social standing than upon the Holy Spirit in "being Church"?  We will certainly know once the ballots are counted.

 

 If the amendment is repealed, what do you think it will mean for the country and for women in particular?

If the eighth amendment is repealed, then it would mean the further subjugation of women in Ireland, just as it has for women wherever abortion is legal.  It becomes an "escape hatch" of sorts for "guys being guys"--but falling short of being men, since it allows them objectify women with fewer consequences.  A large number of abortions take place because of pressure from the male partner who prefer to be more chauvinistic than chivalrous with regard to women.

 How does this referendum reflect on Ireland’s Catholic identity? Is Ireland in danger of losing that identity because of this vote?

Ireland's Catholic identity has been eroding for some time now, and I think that all parties can agree that certain segments within the leadership is largely at fault.  British journals, in fact, seem to suggest that the repeal of the eighth amendment is about humiliating the Church as much as it is about the so-called "liberation" of women.  If the eighth amendment is repealed on the basis of at least three-quarters of "Yes" votes, Ireland's identity as being "Catholic" would seriously be in question.

 

 What repercussions could this vote have at the global level? For the Church?

British journals speak of bringing Ireland "into the twentieth century"--ageism at its worst.  Our sister and brothers in Africa are often frustrated and angry that social aid comes at the price of legalising abortion.  If Ireland legalises abortion, it would very likely galvanize proponents of "ideological colonization," as Pope Francis rightly calls it.  It would also erode respect for people with disabilities because a disabled person who hears of an unborn child's potential disability as a reason for legalising abortion only serves to weaken her or his self-image and to second-guess her or his dignity.  Such a motive for abortion is only a few steps away from the Aktion T4 program of Germany's Third Reich.  It would be, effectively, microeuthanasia.

As far as the Church is concerned, I would be shocked to see how quickly the teachings of Pope John Paul II--St John Paul the Great--have been discarded.  It would probably mean that priests and catechists have not done a good enough job at teaching the "Gospel of Life".  That having been said, I think I'll take my weekend up with re-reading both his Evangelium vitae and Veritatis splendor.